tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9383656689816302572018-01-18T02:50:01.052+05:30The Floating CloudsThe Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.comBlogger60125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-39981007923081325062012-04-05T22:38:00.000+05:302012-04-05T22:38:42.292+05:30Texan Icon<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Erecting statues of historical and important personalities is a universal phenomenon and I wonder if there is any country which is an exception to this. In <st1:country-region w:st="on">India</st1:country-region>, we find that the decision to raise statues can lead to huge political tensions and so whenever there is such a threat, the statue remains under a cloak. One never gets to see it even after spending tax payers’ money on its construction. Many times, statues are used only as landmarks and they are never appreciated or maintained. Sometimes, I am unable to identify whose statue it is because there is no sign declaring the personality and his/her work. But statues are meant to remind us about the contributions, sacrifices and ideals of the person. </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TiRqu2oRSdA/T33Qig0MTGI/AAAAAAAAAjA/_VBM9xlja1I/s1600/P4080150-BLG-z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TiRqu2oRSdA/T33Qig0MTGI/AAAAAAAAAjA/_VBM9xlja1I/s400/P4080150-BLG-z.jpg" width="296" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>One of the statues that I still recall vividly is that of Sam Houston in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Huntsville</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">Texas</st1:state></st1:place>. <st1:city w:st="on">Houston</st1:city> (1793-1863)&nbsp;became a President of the <st1:placetype w:st="on">Republic</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename w:st="on">Texas</st1:placename>, then the Governor of the State of <st1:state w:st="on">Texas</st1:state>, and then a <st1:country-region w:st="on">US</st1:country-region> Senator when <st1:state w:st="on">Texas</st1:state> joined the <st1:place w:st="on">Union</st1:place>. The city of <st1:city w:st="on">Houston</st1:city> is also named after him.</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Driving north on Interstate 45, one finds the statue on the right. Although one cannot stop on the freeway to take pictures, it is worth taking a slight detour and going from the back through the Sam Houston Statue and Huntsville Visitor Centre. There is a small museum and a souvenir shop. One can take a small trail that leads to the statue and one emerges from behind. Along the trail, there is a discarded part of the face and it is a spot for photo-ops. This statue is claimed to be the world’s tallest free-standing statue of an American Hero. It was built by a local artiste, David Adickes. With a height of 67 feet and resting on a 10 feet high granite base, the statue is quite overbearing. Sam Houston is shown in his formal attire holding a walking stick. On the side is an inscription that says, “Govern wisely and as little as possible”. Surely, a thought that one can chew over as one drives away.</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K0FpF_LD7a0/T33QT1nG8NI/AAAAAAAAAio/HLSHD2prNUY/s1600/P4080149-BLG-2-z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K0FpF_LD7a0/T33QT1nG8NI/AAAAAAAAAio/HLSHD2prNUY/s400/P4080149-BLG-2-z.jpg" width="262" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-55SACcUOFeM/T33QXwPpdmI/AAAAAAAAAiw/ksyVgwYwx-U/s1600/P4080152-BLG-z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="303" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-55SACcUOFeM/T33QXwPpdmI/AAAAAAAAAiw/ksyVgwYwx-U/s400/P4080152-BLG-z.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-75186553582285618812012-03-25T18:02:00.001+05:302012-03-25T18:04:45.494+05:30Body Worlds<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>No, this is not the name of my gym. But I must confess that the thought of writing about Body Worlds did occur to me last week when my gym instructor was explaining me about the science of body building. He told me that one of the challenges that body builders work themselves towards is to develop a perfectly chiseled body where one is able to show every single muscle to the viewers. This requires taking off every ounce of fat that covers the muscles. In other words, a well sculpted body is where one must be able to see clearly from the outside what actually lies inside! That is when I remembered the Body Worlds exhibition I had seen a few years ago in the <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">US</st1:place></st1:country-region>. It is the one of most fascinating exhibitions I have ever seen. It shows exactly how our human bodies look from the inside, without the ugly fat or the beautiful skin covering it. And the best part is that it showcases our insides with the help of real human bodies and not artificially built specimens that are used in laboratories or med schools.</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Body Worlds is a traveling exhibition and has been displayed in many parts of the world. It has not come to <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">India</st1:place></st1:country-region> so far and I wish it comes here some day. Developed by Dr. Gunther von Hagens, the exhibition showcases real human bodies that have been preserved through a process of plastination. This process involves preserving the human body/ its organs and tissues by removing the water and fat content and replacing it with polymer so as to avoid it from getting decomposed. The use of polymers also offers the flexibility to give the desired shape and posture to the human body specimen. According to their official website, it takes over 1500 working hours or a whole year to prepare one body specimen or plastinate, as it is called. The bodies are those willed by various individuals for this cause and they have a long list of those who have offered to get themselves plastinated after death. To read more about this and see some of the pictures of the plastinates, see <a href="http://www.bodyworlds.com/en.html">http://www.bodyworlds.com/en.html</a></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>The exhibition showcased how the insides of the body work, the muscular system, the skeletal system, interiors of key internal organs, how various systems are structured inside the body, how bodies look from the inside when a person is healthy, diseased or has had an implant and also during various stages of life. I remember seeing an exhibit of a pregnant woman with a baby in the womb. There was another one of a smoker with distinctly darkened lungs, a shriveled liver due to cirrhosis, and the weak heart of a heart patient. There was a majestic plastinate of a horse and a man riding atop. The muscles of the horse and that of the man were absolutely stunning. Some of the plastinates were shown engaged in various activities – playing chess, fencing, skateboarding, gymnastics, acrobatics, running, dancing and singing. This was absolutely artistic and one could imagine how real life persons must be looking from the inside when doing these complicated mental and physical activities. </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Visitors are not allowed to take pictures or touch the specimens for obvious reasons. It took me almost four hours to see the entire exhibition. &nbsp;One always has the option of going back and seeing something one finds particularly interesting and many specimens have benches provided in front for visitors to sit and observe. I was told that the exhibition is always crowded so there is no point trying to find a slot when it would be relatively less crowded. </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I remember distinctly that my first reaction on seeing the plastinates was that of awe and disbelief and as I left the exhibition, I was feeling humbled and somewhat philosophical. My daughter who was about eight years at that time was quite cool and unperturbed and I remember some concerned parents asking me when I came out if it would be appropriate for children. But I must say that some visitors (especially adults) were evidently uncomfortable and were not able to stand the not-so-pleasing sights of the human interiors. So if think you fall in that category, you are better off watching a body building competition instead. If not, don’t miss this exhibition if you happen to be in the same city.</b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-14996315901117729872012-03-19T22:34:00.003+05:302012-03-25T18:03:51.753+05:30Muchkund<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b>The movie 3 Idiots may have made the name Ranchhoddas well known and perhaps cool. However, in Mahabharata, Krishna was called Ranchod because he had ‘run away’ from the battle with Kaalyavan who had gone to <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Mathura</st1:place></st1:city> to help Jarasandh. The story goes like this – when Krishna was in a duel with Kaalyavan there came a point when <st1:place w:st="on">Krishna</st1:place> realized that the only way to kill Kaalyavan would be to burn him. He knew about Baba Muchkund whose ashram was not too far away. Baba Muchkund was known for his long sleep. It was said that anyone who woke Baba Muchkund would be turned to ashes by his gaze. Knowing the powers which Baba Muchkund possessed, <st1:place w:st="on">Krishna</st1:place> ran away from the battlefield and reached his ashram. Kaalyavan followed and when he did not find <st1:place w:st="on">Krishna</st1:place> nearby, he kicked Baba Muchkund who was asleep. At that instant, Kaalyavan was burnt to ashes and <st1:place w:st="on">Krishna</st1:place> won with the help of his wits. </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b>The ashram of Baba Muchkund is located near Dhaulpur, Rajasthan. On the way to the ashram from the town, one passes another point of interest called Pahad wale Baba ki Dargah which sits on top of a peak. In fact, the Dargah can also be seen from the Shergadh fort and I had seen it lit up from the fort the previous evening. </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br></div></div><a href="http://thefloatingclouds.blogspot.com/2012/03/muchkund.html#more">Read more »</a>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-19532667521161642842012-03-10T14:46:00.001+05:302012-03-19T22:37:16.133+05:30Rustic Charm of Chambal<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b>This one is after another long hiatus. During the past two months, work took me to various corners of our country - from small towns to nondescript villages to tribal hamlets; from places known to be exotic to those known to be notorious. I lived in hotels where I was the lone guest and sometimes spent the nights in the office itself because there wasn’t any hotel nearby. Most of the times I did not consume more than one and a half meal per day because there was no place or time to stop and eat, but there was a rare occasion when I feasted on gulab-jamuns and rasagollas smuggled out by the hotel boy from some wedding reception. But the best meal I ate was the hot ‘mid day meal’ served at the government school in Dhamtari, Chhattisgarh.</b></span><br></div></div><a href="http://thefloatingclouds.blogspot.com/2012/03/rustic-charm-of-chambal.html#more">Read more »</a>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-5514235975734707522012-01-13T23:14:00.001+05:302012-03-10T15:00:44.210+05:30Badlands<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b>Driving eastwards on Interstate 90 in <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">South Dakota</st1:place></st1:state>, we ran into some very unpredictable weather. When we started, it was bright and sunny but suddenly out of the blue, the skies were covered with thick black rain clouds. We were on our way to the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Badlands</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">National Park</st1:placetype></st1:place> and before we could decide whether to go ahead with the plans or call it a day, it started pouring. The rains were lashing hard on the window panes and we could barely see the signboards. Our gut sense was that we had at least one more hour to drive. Despite the thunderstorms and lightning, we braved our way towards the Park. We thought that it would be much better to drive towards our destination rather than face the same bad weather to go back to the hotel. We exited at a city called Wall, which is named after the sight of Badlands Wall and just followed the map.</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br></div></div><a href="http://thefloatingclouds.blogspot.com/2012/01/badlands.html#more">Read more »</a>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com40tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-69853940714706301952012-01-10T09:43:00.005+05:302012-01-17T18:12:19.524+05:30Stranded in Thamel<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b>Out of the four days that I was at <st1:place w:st="on">Kathmandu</st1:place>, two days were declared as bandh. Upon my arrival at the airport, the hosts phoned and apologized for not coming to receive me because of a total bandh called very suddenly. Due to the volatile climate, only tourist vehicles were allowed to operate and I was told that instead of going to Park Village Resort where I was supposed to stay, it would be advisable to spend one night at Kathmandu Guest House which happens to be run by the same group. After much discussion and deliberation with the hosts, the taxi driver and the hotel and after weighing all options of the safest mode to travel, I finally got into a tourist vehicle along with a colleague and a couple of other passengers.</b></span><br><span style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b><br></b></span><br><span style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b></b></span><br></div></div><a href="http://thefloatingclouds.blogspot.com/2012/01/stranded-in-thamel.html#more">Read more »</a>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-24528163669713289412012-01-05T20:02:00.001+05:302012-01-17T18:13:53.625+05:30Chandigarh…visit incomplete<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b>Now that I look back I think my visit to <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Chandigarh</st1:place></st1:city> was meant to be incomplete, so that I can go there again with a little more time. </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b>After wrapping up all the work that we had come to do, my colleague and I decided to go around the city for a few hours before heading back to the airport. Our hosts had given us a cab (gratis!) and told us to take it wherever we wanted (Go to Shimla if you wish, we were told) but little did we know that the cabbie would be such a spoilsport. Lesson learnt- think twice before accepting anything free.</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br></div></div><a href="http://thefloatingclouds.blogspot.com/2012/01/chandigarhvisit-incomplete.html#more">Read more »</a>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-47285845333649666462012-01-01T14:48:00.002+05:302012-01-17T18:14:43.545+05:30Pratapgadh - the victor and the vanquished<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b>Here’s another fort that is significant in Maratha history. Pratapgadh is where Shivaji killed Afzal Khan with his tiger claws after his concealed armour saved him from getting stabbed by Afzal Khan’s dagger during one of most vicious embraces that history has witnessed. The mausoleum of Afzal Khan lies at the foothills of Pratapgadh and the saffron flag symbolizing Maratha rule still flutters atop Pratapgadh. </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b></b></span><br></div></div><a href="http://thefloatingclouds.blogspot.com/2012/01/pratapgadh-victor-and-vanquished.html#more">Read more »</a>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-42462873745671993952011-12-22T17:05:00.002+05:302012-01-17T18:15:27.614+05:30Mystical Himalayas<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b>I have just returned from Kathmandu a couple of days ago and am still remembering the grand view of the mystical and magnificent Himalayas. As soon as the aircraft took off from Kathmandu, I changed my seat and got myself an empty window seat in the front row so that I could capture the view from the aircraft. The window pane was a bit dirty on the outside, but here is what I was able to click from the top. Needless to say that I was completely spell bound. I remembered the time when I had gone on a spiritual retreat to the Himalayas in my early twenties, when I was told by a nun to join their fold. Had I gone with the suggestion, I might have ended up being an enlightened soul by now and would have been staying in one of the monasteries in the Himalayas. Life indeed takes you in strange directions and the sight of the mighty Himalayas was absolutely humbling.</b></span><br><span style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b></b></span><br></div></div><a href="http://thefloatingclouds.blogspot.com/2011/12/mystical-himalayas.html#more">Read more »</a>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-28868217311474384962011-12-16T16:39:00.001+05:302012-01-17T18:15:55.685+05:30A Nostalgic Food Trip<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b>One Sunday evening, making my way through the thick crowd near Dadar railway station in Mumbai, I realized that I was almost racing towards the place I had been longing to visit for almost one year. Mumbai visits are incomplete without this ritual. I took the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Chhabildas</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">School</st1:placetype></st1:place> lane, passed by the Ideal Book Depot, found the familiar crowd around the small roadside stall on the right and then with a deep breath took in the familiar aroma of hot Batata Vadas. </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br></div></div><a href="http://thefloatingclouds.blogspot.com/2011/12/nostalgic-food-trip.html#more">Read more »</a>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-87546711622364814832011-12-15T22:07:00.004+05:302012-01-17T18:16:27.125+05:30Nongpoh Market<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b>Nongpoh is a small village on NH 40 situated in Ri-Bhoi district of Meghalaya. While driving to Shillong from Guwahati, my colleague and I decided to stop at the weekly vegetable market at Nongpoh to buy some fruits that could be our breakfast. It was around 7.30 am and the local traders had already started coming in with their fresh produce. Most of them were carrying fruits and vegetables in tall conical bamboo baskets. Small vans were helping traders carry their wares from long distances. As we reached, some vendors had already set up their stalls while others were finding space. I spent the first few minutes trying to identify the different local varieties of fruits and vegetables that were being sold. There were huge bunches of leafy vegetables, long and weird shaped roots, and big melons that I had never seen before. Some stalls were selling meat and there were others selling grain and spices. I was actually very tempted to buy some local stuff and try it after returning to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Bangalore</st1:city></st1:place>; but that would have been too much of an ordeal. </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b></b></span><br></div></div><a href="http://thefloatingclouds.blogspot.com/2011/12/nongpoh-market.html#more">Read more »</a>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-29137698836849826342011-12-11T23:15:00.002+05:302012-01-17T18:17:16.885+05:30Devouring the jam<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b>“Send me a truck” is what I should have said to the travel agent in Guwahati when he asked me what kind of vehicle I’d like to take to Shillong. Because the Tata Indica that I opted for (a non-AC one since I thought it would be an insult to the wonderful weather to keep window panes rolled up and an air-conditioner on) looked like a toy car amidst hundreds of trucks that dominated the National Highway 40 which connects Guwahati to Shillong. When I asked people around how much time it would take us to reach Shillong by road from Guwahati, not one person could give us a specific answer. All of them very obliquely told us ‘it depends, can’t say anything about the traffic’. I understood what this meant only when I experienced it first-hand and I can say without any hesitation that the Guwahati-Shillong traffic jams are of a different league altogether. They cannot be compared with city jams that one negotiates and curses everyday - where blaring horns, one-upmanship, indifference to traffic rules and ill-managed traffic lights create total chaos. Because the traffic jams on this NH 40 are as laid back as the daily life and there is often no urgency to literally find a way out. As I observed, it also offers a source of entertainment to those living around and I found groups of people in several places simply sitting around, analyzing and getting amused by the impossible jams. </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br></div></div><a href="http://thefloatingclouds.blogspot.com/2011/12/loved-this-jam.html#more">Read more »</a>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-45330791722338213352011-12-07T22:28:00.001+05:302012-01-17T18:17:53.398+05:30Break ke baad...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;">A friend points out that it has been exactly two months since my last post. I am back after my longest break since I started blogging, and I don’t know where to begin. I already had a backlog of over 50 places to write about before I went ‘off-blog’ and this period in between (when I have been living out of my suitcase) has provided many more memories to re-live and stories to recount. There were times during my travels when I was so excited about what I had seen or done that I almost wrote my blog posts in my mind and saved it there. But there were also times when my mind was so pre-occupied that it failed to observe and enjoy. This made me realize that there must be a saturation point even for travelers.</b><br></div></div><a href="http://thefloatingclouds.blogspot.com/2011/12/break-ke-baad.html#more">Read more »</a>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-2736417893388623662011-10-07T18:15:00.001+05:302012-01-17T18:18:36.445+05:30Standing Tall<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b>Many people, whichever part of the world they may live in, have their own 9/11 story to tell. But nothing brings out these stories more strongly than a visit to Ground Zero. Even after ten years, these narratives are so powerful that they can take you back in time and take you through the collective memories of grief, terror, shock, anger, fear, sacrifice, courage and hope. The recently inaugurated National September 11 Memorial at what was earlier called Ground Zero will become an important part of travel itinerary for those visiting <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Manhattan</st1:place></st1:city>. However, the 9/11 memorial housed at the adjacent <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">St. Paul</st1:place></st1:city>’s Chapel is also a must see. </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b></b></span><br></div></div><a href="http://thefloatingclouds.blogspot.com/2011/10/standing-tall.html#more">Read more »</a>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-30438264321741702942011-09-27T21:19:00.002+05:302012-01-17T18:19:09.640+05:30Taj of the Deccan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b>I have blogged about my <a href="http://thefloatingclouds.blogspot.com/2011/07/jinxed.html">jinxed trip to the Taj Mahal</a> but I must say that I have visited the Taj of the <st1:place w:st="on">Deccan</st1:place>. Bibi ka Maqbara is called the Taj of the <st1:place w:st="on">Deccan</st1:place> because it is inspired by the architecture, carvings and landscaping of the Taj Mahal. Located in <st1:city w:st="on">Aurangabad</st1:city>, <st1:place w:st="on">Maharashtra</st1:place> which had become an important centre for the Mughals in the 17<sup>th</sup> century, the Bibi ka Maqbara is said to have been built somewhere between 1651 and 1661. Although the name means it is the ‘tomb of the wife’, it was actually built by Aurangzeb’s elder son Azam Shah (Akbar’s brother) in memory of his mother Rabbia Ul Durrani or Dilras Banu Begum. When I cross-checked the dates through a search on Wiki, I found that Azam Shah was born in 1653 so it is unlikely that the construction would have started in 1651 although these are the dates mentioned on the inscription put up by the Archeological Survey of India. The same inscription states that the monument took shape under leadership of Ata-Ullah, who was the architect and Hanspat Rai, the engineer. It is also called ‘poor man’s Taj’ because it was built with a fraction of the resources spent on the Taj Mahal and tries to copy the grandeur of the Taj. </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b></b></span><br></div></div><a href="http://thefloatingclouds.blogspot.com/2011/09/taj-of-deccan.html#more">Read more »</a>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-83724229159717149272011-09-20T23:21:00.001+05:302012-01-17T18:19:43.355+05:30Russian Winter<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b>It was middle of January and the temperature at <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">St. Petersburg</st1:city></st1:place> had dipped to minus 25 degrees Celsius. The tourist guide asked us once again, “Are you sure you want to go ahead with the sight-seeing tour today”. I was fully prepared to face the bitter Russian winter and so gave a double thumbs-up. The bus took ten of us around for the entire day and we had a truly memorable time. I will write about the places we visited in a separate post, this one is dedicated to sharing the sights and experiences of Russian winter. </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b></b></span><br></div></div><a href="http://thefloatingclouds.blogspot.com/2011/09/russian-winter.html#more">Read more »</a>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-1885941087734180152011-09-18T23:45:00.001+05:302012-01-17T18:20:09.914+05:30Some things change and some things don't<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b>Spaces for children in urban areas are dwindling rapidly and Mumbai is no exception. Very few parks have been designed keeping children in mind. One of the oldest parks that has been the top favourite among children is the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Kamala</st1:placename> <st1:placename w:st="on">Nehru</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Park</st1:placetype></st1:place>. All those who have grown up in Mumbai would recollect that this used to be a regular spot for school picnics. After all these years, when I passed by Kamala Nehru Park some time ago, it was heartening to see that at least some things in life are still the same.</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br></div></div><a href="http://thefloatingclouds.blogspot.com/2011/09/some-things-change-and-some-things-dont.html#more">Read more »</a>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-61946959845925135172011-09-16T23:27:00.002+05:302012-01-17T18:20:43.216+05:30Silent and Mesmerizing - Hail she is<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b>It was early summer and we were driving through <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">South Dakota</st1:place></st1:state>. It was around three in the afternoon. The skies were beginning to turn grey and the sunshine seemed undecided if it wanted to stay or hide away. We thought it would be a good idea to head back to the hotel instead of getting stuck in a sudden thunderstorm. But we pushed our luck and decided to drive on and thank goodness, we did not return. Because what we saw in the next few minutes was absolutely magical. Suddenly the open fields and the valley got filled with cold thunderclouds. There was no storm, no thundering, no noise; just a silent and mesmerizing entry of clouds carrying hail. The horses grazing in the fields paused for a moment to enjoy the beauty. The white clouds swept in spreading themselves as a carpet. They slowed down for a while shedding the hail they had carried with them and silently moved on, leaving us completely dumbstruck. Here are some pictures where I have tried to capture the magical experience.</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b></b></span><br></div></div><a href="http://thefloatingclouds.blogspot.com/2011/09/silent-and-mesmerising-hail-she-is.html#more">Read more »</a>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-58850897283213032792011-09-16T00:11:00.002+05:302012-01-17T18:21:49.314+05:30Kabini - In the lap of nature<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, &#39;Times New Roman&#39;, serif;"><b>One of the places in Karnataka where one can enjoy wildlife and get immersed in the lap of nature is Kabini. It is about 80 kms from <st1:city w:st="on">Mysore</st1:city> and located inside the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Nagarhole</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">National Park</st1:placetype></st1:place>. It is named after Kabini, a tributary of Kaveri. We visited Kabini a while ago and stayed at the Jungle Lodges Resort. For a long time, this used to be the only place to stay at Kabini and therefore always heavily booked. Now there are other resorts too but if one is planning to stay at the Jungle Lodges, it is advisable to book well in advance because it is still sought after. </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br></div></div><a href="http://thefloatingclouds.blogspot.com/2011/09/kabini-in-lap-of-nature.html#more">Read more »</a>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-9423673859849221812011-09-14T22:37:00.001+05:302011-09-14T22:39:40.365+05:30Zero Mile Marker at Nagpur<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>The geographical centre of <st1:country-region w:st="on">India</st1:country-region> is located at <st1:city w:st="on">Nagpur</st1:city>, <st1:place w:st="on">Maharashtra</st1:place> and the ‘zero mile marker’ located in the heart of the city is considered to be the central-most point in the country. This stone pillar is supposed to have been erected during the British period although it is not clear for what purpose they thought of building it. We can see the old names of cities marked on different sides of the pillar indicating the direction and the distance between the city and the zero mile marker. Located adjacent to a busy road junction on a small patch of a green lawn, one can just pass by it without even recognizing its importance. </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LN_vo1hfqnM/TnDejr_zUrI/AAAAAAAAAL4/QTYT6XRsjHc/s1600/zeroMile.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LN_vo1hfqnM/TnDejr_zUrI/AAAAAAAAAL4/QTYT6XRsjHc/s400/zeroMile.JPG" width="296" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Next to the pillar stands a sculpture with running horses. Although the sculpture is nice per se, it simply does not go well with the old stone zero mile marker (hence it has been smartly cut off from this picture). I would have rather appreciated the tourism department putting up a small board indicating the significance of the place and a little bit of its history. I am not even sure if all the local autorickshaw drivers know about the place because we had to ask many people on the way for directions and not all knew what we were looking for. But if you are in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Nagpur</st1:place></st1:city>, you should certainly check it out at least. Whatever said, it is a nice feeling to be standing at the centre of our vast country.</b></span></div></div>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-37946016309598986012011-09-13T23:00:00.002+05:302011-09-13T23:05:15.320+05:30Puri - a picture of faith<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>When I was at college, an Oriya friend of mine had gifted me a magnet with a picture of Lord Jagannatha which still finds a place on my refrigerator after all these years. So when work took me to Puri some time ago, I thought I must visit the temple if schedule permitted. Early one morning, I skipped my long run on the beach and instead took a cycle rickshaw to the temple. Puri is basically a temple town and all roads lead to the temple. When I started at 7 am, I thought I would be the early bird but was surprised to see that the crowd had already started building up. The rickshaw stopped a little distance away and I had to walk the last few hundred metres. Outside the temple, I had to deposit my footwear, mobile phone and my camera. I was somewhat reluctant, but they had a fairly decent system to ensure that the personal belongings of hundreds of devotees were kept safely. Moreover, I did not have a choice.</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>As I entered through what is called the Lion Gate facing eastwards (there are four gates facing four directions called the Lion Gate, Tiger Gate, Elephant Gate and Horse Gate), I came across the Aruna Sthambha, a stone pillar that has been moved from Konark to Puri. After bowing to the pillar, I climbed up the sacred twenty-two steps and saw the devotees either kissing every step or touching their forehead to every step. The priests (called the pandas) were thrusting themselves on all visitors and it took me some time to get used to their nagging presence at every spot without getting irritated. Everyone around seemed to be carrying pooja thalis and elaborate offerings and I looked somewhat out of place because I was not carrying even a single flower and was not even interested in doing any pooja. </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>The temple itself rests on a raised platform and is built in Kalinga style of architecture. The walls and the dome have beautiful intricate carvings and considering that it was built in the 12<sup>th</sup> century, it is in an excellent condition. The main temple is surrounded by thirty other small and not-so-small temples and the devotees were distributed across all. </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>There is also a huge kitchen that can serve food to large gatherings during festivals. Lord Jagannatha is said to be worshipped by all sects of Hinduism thus symbolizing spiritual eclecticism. It is also among the four ‘dhams’ which must be visited by every Hindu before departing from this life. The idol of Jagannatha is actually made out of wood and is said to contain an object that lends the deity an extra mystical and spiritual significance. </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>As I entered inside the dark corridor on the periphery of the sanctum sanctorum, there was a huge rush to get a glimpse of Lord Jagannatha, Balabhadra and Subhadra. Looking at the crowd, I wondered if I should just head back, but there was no choice. Before I could make up my mind, I was pushed by the crowd away from the exit. The priest ensured that the crowd kept moving and all the devotees got just a couple of seconds to fold their hands and lower their heads when they were straight in front of the trinity. I too got my two seconds before I was pushed away. The image was just the same as the one on my refrigerator but here the trinity was almost coming alive with the prayers and chantings reverberating inside the high dome and adding to the radiance. The deities were dressed elaborately and exquisitely.</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>As I came out, I saw many devotees sitting in the courtyard with rosary beads praying and reading from the texts. I saw there was an unusually high proportion of elderly women devotees, some so old and bent that they could barely walk. I realized some of them must have waited their entire lifetime to finally make this yatra.</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Some devotees were distributing and eating Prasad. I quickly went around all the other temples, but spent more time sitting and observing the devotees and marveling at the picture of faith that was spread around. The sun had risen quite high by now and the temple looked brilliant with a golden hue created by sunlight. I realized that I should now return. As I walked down the steps, I once again saw the devotees touching every step as they entered and the temple bells ringing continuously beckoning them as they came closer and closer. I wished I had my camera with me, not so much for taking pictures of the beautiful architecture but for capturing the expressions of those who were nearing their destination. As I stepped out of the temple and rode through the narrow lanes of Puri in a cycle rickshaw driven laboriously by someone who was of my father’s age, it seemed like I had stepped into a different world altogether.&nbsp;&nbsp;</b></span></div></div>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-26840289847249257282011-09-11T22:25:00.000+05:302011-09-11T22:25:03.669+05:30Sinhagad - a chapter from Maratha history<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Having grown up reading Maratha history at school and a dose of Amar Chitra Katha stories about Shivaji, a trip to Sinhagad was a great way of refreshing all the history lessons from my childhood. Sinhagad literally means Lion’s Fort. It is located around 30-35 kms from Pune on a hill (about 800 metres high) and is a lovely spot for making a day trip. </b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Sinhagad, which was earlier called Kondhana, was strategically important for the Marathas because it was located at the centre of other important forts like the Purandar, Rajgad and Torna and they captured the fort every time it was snatched away from them. But Sinhagad is significant in Maratha history primarily because of the Battle of Sinhagad which was fought in 1670 to recapture the fort from the Mughals. During the battle, Tanaji Malasure, Shivaji’s most reliable lieutenant surprised the enemies by climbing up the steep cliff of the fort with the help of a monitor lizard and putting up a brave fight. Although he died fighting valiantly in the battle, the Marathas were victorious and recaptured the fort. Shivaji is said to have then remarked, ‘<i>Gad aala pan Sinha <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">gela</st1:place></st1:city></i>’ (The fort has been won but the lion is lost). Today, when one looks down the sharp vertical cliff standing on top of Sinhagad at the same spot, one can only imagine the sheer courage and loyalty of Tanaji.</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Although one can trek right up to the fort from Sinhagad village at the foothills, we drove up as we were traveling with little kids. However, the road was in a bad shape. From the parking lot, the climb up to the fort was comfortable. It was very hot and there were not many trees on the top providing shade. The steps were uneven in many places and had a lot of gravel. Thankfully, we were prepared for both these conditions with caps and comfortable shoes.&nbsp;</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OVv_-vlEtI4/TmzmXiVjkwI/AAAAAAAAAL0/GBhYXH0Ky9k/s1600/Sinhgad.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OVv_-vlEtI4/TmzmXiVjkwI/AAAAAAAAAL0/GBhYXH0Ky9k/s400/Sinhgad.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Pune Darwaza at Sinhagad</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>There were two entrances to the fort – Pune Darwaza taken by most visitors and Kalyan Darwaza. A tour around the fort can take even an entire day, depending on how much one wants to explore. There is a Tanaji Smarak (memorial) on top; several water tanks, including the Elephant tank; several temples including a small temple dedicated to Kondhaneshwar; several towers, ammunition storehouse, a rock-cut cave-like horse stable and also the Doordarshan TV tower. One can not only see the majestic Sahyadri ranges from top, one can also spot other forts around. During summer, the mountain ranges look blackish because they are dry with little vegetation. But in monsoons, we were told that they look as if they are covered with green velvet. We would have liked to see more displays depicting a map of the fort, explanation about the history and significance of every spot. The place somehow assumed that every visitor would be familiar with Maratha history. Back in the parking lot, there were many places that served typical Marathi food, but we settled for a glass of buttermilk.</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>On the way back, we wished we had spent the entire day at the fort, wished we had trekked instead of taking a bumpy road ride and wished that the kids were slightly older to understand what they saw. Anyways, now we have more than one reason to visit Sinhagad again.</b></span></div></div>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-39384067178252568702011-09-07T22:22:00.000+05:302011-09-07T22:22:38.854+05:30A day in Agartala<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A</span></b><b style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> few months ago, I was in Agartala on work. Given that I was spending only 24 hours (from Friday noon to Saturday noon) in the city and with some important work that required hundred percent focus, I was not expecting a chance to go around. I was staying at the Circuit House, a sprawling newly constructed sarkari Guest House which offered superb food and hospitality; so there was no reason to step out either other than for my scheduled business. The traveler in me was getting a bit restless, but work always comes before pleasure! Luckily, all the scheduled work was completed late evening on the first day itself freeing up the next morning. The government officials whom I had come to meet suggested that I should also see the city since I had not been there before and had come all the way from <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Bangalore</st1:place></st1:city>. Although it was a holiday the next day, they deputed a person to take me around.</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Next morning as I woke up, I found thick fog enveloped outside the window and I could see absolutely nothing beyond. It took a good couple of hours for the fog to clear up. My escort showed up exactly at the scheduled time and I allowed him to work out my itinerary for the morning. He had come equipped with a camera and a USB cable so I could carry the pictures that he was planning to take as we went around. His idea was that I could look around and he could take the pictures, so we could save time - I had never met such a thoughtful and enthusiastic escort before!<o:p></o:p></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>On the way I was told how the international border with Bangladesh is only 4-5 kilometers away from Agartala, how 80% of Tripura’s border is shared with Bangladesh (on north, west and south), how the border is just a fence with barbed wire and covers most of the border leaving out certain pockets, how trade and exchange takes place across the border on a daily basis, how the cultures across are more or less identical because of the Bengali identity and so on. We talked about the two famous personalities from Tripura – legendary S.D. Burman and upcoming tennis star Somdev Devvarman. I saw that Agartala had a few signs of having joined the globalization era- a small mall (which I preferred to skip), advertisements of cell-phones and computer courses…however, my Reliance Netconnect did not get any signal and I did not find any surfing centre easily.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aR9lanFBEnI/TmeghkCs2fI/AAAAAAAAALs/YdjknWu0loQ/s1600/TripuraPalace.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="280" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aR9lanFBEnI/TmeghkCs2fI/AAAAAAAAALs/YdjknWu0loQ/s320/TripuraPalace.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Ujjayanta Palace getting renovated</b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>We first went to the Durga Bari temple and Laxminarayan Bari temple. These simple, non-ostentatious temples (compared to what I am used to seeing in the South) hold great significance and had many devotees although there was no special occasion. We then went to the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Ujjayanta</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Palace</st1:placetype></st1:place> which is where the Tripura Legislative Assembly was housed since Tripura attained statehood in 1972. The gates were closed as it was a holiday but since I was in a sarkari car and with sarkari escort, they opened magically. The long pathway after the entrance went around Mughal styled gardens leading upto a two storey white palace. It was built by Maharaja Radhakishore Manickya more than 100 years ago. I saw that the palace building was covered with scaffoldings and was undergoing some renovation. I was told that the Assembly would move to a new and modern building sometime after summer this year. We then went to Jagannath Bari temple which had several beautifully decorated statutes of <st1:place w:st="on">Krishna</st1:place>, Balaram and Subhadra. The entire life of <st1:place w:st="on">Krishna</st1:place> was depicted through the colourful statues. I also saw statues of Shiva-Parvati tucked at the back, beside a small tank and a dharamshala.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LUGtELiLHjs/TmegsF7KUaI/AAAAAAAAALw/t6dLvh_yoGc/s1600/TripuraTemple.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LUGtELiLHjs/TmegsF7KUaI/AAAAAAAAALw/t6dLvh_yoGc/s320/TripuraTemple.JPG" width="211" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Shiva at Jagannath Bari temple</span></b></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>I realized I had seen almost all the must-see places in Agartala within just three hours. It was time for me to head back to the airport. On the way, my escort transferred the pictures he had taken onto my laptop and the ones I have displayed in this post are actually clicked by him. He insisted that I should return to Agartala so that I could visit some more important and beautiful temples located a few hundred kilometers away. In his excitement, he copied some of the pictures of those other temples also on to my laptop from his camera and said, ‘If you see these pictures, you will feel like returning again to Agartala’. I was really touched by this sweet gesture. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>As the plane flew from Agartala to Kolkata, it went over <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Bangladesh</st1:place></st1:country-region> for most of the time. The sky was clear and I could see the blue tinged rivers, green fields and grey houses. I tried to locate the fenced border but could not find any.</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></div></div>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-62153849670673470212011-09-04T22:17:00.000+05:302011-09-04T22:17:43.294+05:30Scientists in Steel<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Just outside the <st1:placename w:st="on">Tsukuba</st1:placename> <st1:placename w:st="on">Expo</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Memorial Park</st1:placetype> in <st1:city w:st="on">Ibaraki</st1:city>, <st1:country-region w:st="on">Japan</st1:country-region>, there is an amazing stainless steel installation that keeps up with the city’s reputation as the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Science</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">City</st1:placetype></st1:place>. Constructed with the help of hundreds of steel balls suspended from a square frame, images of four great scientists namely, Archimedes, <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Newton</st1:place></st1:city>, Edison and Galileo, have been created.&nbsp;</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sGjQ0h0WSic/TmOq2_WXyKI/AAAAAAAAALk/GqHNL0ITs2k/s1600/steelballsTsukuba.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sGjQ0h0WSic/TmOq2_WXyKI/AAAAAAAAALk/GqHNL0ITs2k/s400/steelballsTsukuba.JPG" width="295" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>View from below the structure</b></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>The square frame rests on four polished steel pillars and on the top it has connected the diagonals and the sides. Hundreds of steel balls are suspended with the help of thin but strong wires from top in such a manner that faces of the four scientists can be identified by looking at the installation from each of the four sides. The most amazing part of this installation is that when one looks at say Galileo from one side, the other steel balls making the images of other scientists are not even visible because they are integrated into the design of Galileo. The design is extremely neat and without any distortion although it simultaneously showcases four images facing four different sides. I thought, perhaps if I stood under the square frame and looked up I would get to see some messiness of the artist, but I was wrong. It was impeccable and absolutely Japanese. Although I am unable to find the details of the creators in my notes, my strong hunch is that it must have been a team effort, that too an inter-disciplinary team effort.&nbsp;</b></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BpbcxzXhYkE/TmOrMJbhjDI/AAAAAAAAALo/liVjen20x2o/s1600/Galileo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BpbcxzXhYkE/TmOrMJbhjDI/AAAAAAAAALo/liVjen20x2o/s400/Galileo.JPG" width="310" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Image of Galileo</b></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>The team would have relied on first, the artist or designer for conceiving and visualizing the installation, then the people with backgrounds in math, computer graphics, 3D modeling to come up with simulated virtual models, then the people with background in material sciences in helping select material that has withstood the weather conditions and then finally those who actually worked on it hands-on to erect the structure and translate the designer’s vision into a reality.<span>&nbsp; </span>Kudos to the team which has beautifully converged multiple disciplines and for a flawless execution that brings the four great scientists together!</b></span></div></div>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-938365668981630257.post-5877106133127552212011-09-04T00:41:00.007+05:302011-09-05T09:37:14.255+05:30Till the last drop...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b></b></span><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Broadly speaking, there are two types of drivers when it comes to making decisions about when to refuel during long road journeys- the cautious ones who refuel even before the arrow tips to the E mark and the slightly bindaas ones who rely on their gut instinct about the capacity of the reserve fuel in the car and are willing to push the car to the nearest fueling station, if need be. Besides there are those who seem to be on some kind of a loyalty programme and refuel only at particular fuel stations and there are also those who refuel only if the price is within a particular price bracket (like in US where prices differ across vendors and stations). Whatever be your type, sooner or later you are bound to come across an experience that may nudge you to reconsider how you make refueling decisions and when you make them.</b></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b> </b></span><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>We had a nail-biting experience while driving from <st1:city w:st="on">Lafayette</st1:city> to <st1:city w:st="on">Baton Rouge</st1:city> on I-10 in <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Louisiana</st1:place></st1:state> after which the E mark on the car does not look the same to us anymore. We were so engrossed in talking, eating, taking pictures, listening to music and all that is usually done during long drives that we did not notice how long we’d been driving with the arrow on the E mark. And before we knew it, we were already driving on the Atchafalya Swamp Freeway, a long stretch of elevated freeway that rests on pillars over the swamps. The bridge is an architectural feat because it is constructed over the <st1:place w:st="on">Atchafalaya</st1:place> river and large tracts of swamps on all side and runs for over 18.2 miles.&nbsp;</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Initially we joked about who would push the car for the remaining distance in the hot sun; but soon we realized that there was no way we could turn back and all we could do was to keep driving until we ran out of fuel. Jokes were soon replaced with arguments about who was responsible or rather irresponsible to get us into this situation. Arguments rarely provide answers or solutions, so for the sake of self-preservation we kept aside the verbal duel (to be continued at another time and place) and tried to find some solutions. The first step was to take a baseline by trying to calibrate the exact position of the arrow relative to the lettering E and making some quick calculations on mileage, distance covered, fuel efficiency etc. As per the calculations, we thought we may just be able to cross the 18.2 miles elevated highway if we conserved. The AC was switched off immediately and the windows were rolled down to let the swampy air flow into the car and add to the foul atmosphere inside the car. Then there was an argument if switching off the car stereo would have any impact on fuel conservation. Although we did not arrive at any consensus, we decided to err on the cautious side and switch off the music. Instead of listening to the other person say ‘I had told you to switch off the music, now push the car’ we preferred to rather listen to each other sing. There was no question of stopping or changing gears, but we did try to argue if the changes in speed would affect the fuel efficiency. We tried telling each other that staring at the arrow would not elevate it in any way and we should leave the poor 'E' alone instead of hypnotizing it with our constant glare. We tried to figure out what emergency features the expressway was equipped with. We saw that there were several call phones marked by numbers for easy identification and we figured out that help will not be too far away even if we indeed needed support. With all eyes on the movement of the arrow which was way below E, we forgot to even take pictures of the <st1:place w:st="on">Atchafalaya</st1:place> river and swamps. The 18.2 miles ride seemed so long that we even began wondering if there was any digit missing from the hundredth place and if it was in fact 118.2 kms or even worse if the decimal was actually not supposed to be there before 2? But finally we did see the end of the freeway and our car was still running on the reserve fuel.&nbsp;</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Once we got off, we still did not see any fuel station but the fact that we were in a human habitation and not suspended over a swamp gave tremendous relief. Soon we spotted a fueling station- it was not selling fuel from our preferred company and the price was also somewhat high but that did not matter anymore. We had stared at the E mark for too long than what it deserved.</b></span></div></div>The Floating Cloudshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17705291637566052265noreply@blogger.com4